seven

"when you're gone the pieces of my heart are missing you." -when you're gone, avril lavigne.

——

misun adjusted the camera strap around her neck and squinted through the viewfinder. the studio smelled faintly of coffee and printer ink, the faint hum of fluorescent lights above buzzing in her ears.

she tried to focus on the photos she was taking, framing the shots carefully, but her mind kept drifting.

the memory of jihoon—that night, his face, the way his eyes had softened when he said her name—kept pushing its way into every corner of her thoughts.

she snapped a picture, frowning when it came out slightly crooked. she adjusted the lens and tried again.

"focus, misun. focus," she muttered to herself.

chaewon, leaning against the counter beside her, noticed her distracted movements.

"hey... are you okay?" she asked gently.

misun forced a smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "yeah, i'm fine," she said too quickly.

chaewon raised an eyebrow but didn't push further. instead, she handed misun a cup of coffee. "you sure? you've been... spacing out a lot today."

misun took it and nodded, staring at the dark liquid as if it held the answers. "i'm fine, really."

but she wasn't fine. her chest felt tight, and every time she closed her eyes, she could see him. just a flash of his face and her heart would squeeze painfully.

she forced herself to refocus, lining up another shot, adjusting the lighting. still, she kept catching herself smiling absentmindedly at nothing.

meanwhile, several kilometers away, jihoon sat on the edge of the set, trying to push the memories of misun out of his mind.

they were filming the music video for hot, the choreography complex and the cameras unforgiving. the members had been going over takes for hours.

jihoon kept making mistakes. a step too fast here, a hand in the wrong position there. the director would stop and reset, and his frustration grew.

"woozi, are you okay?" jun asked, noticing the tension in his shoulders.

he shook his head slightly and smiled, masking the tightness in his chest. "yeah... i'm fine," he said.

but he wasn't fine.

every move reminded him of misun. of the night at the grocery store. of her soft voice saying his name. the way she had smiled nervously, the little laugh she tried to hide—it haunted him.

he could feel the eyes of the members on him, their concern unspoken but obvious.

"you're not really fine, are you?" scoups whispered after a take.

he forced a small laugh, ruffling his hair. "really, i'm okay. just a little tired, that's all."

but in his mind, he wasn't okay at all. every step he took, every motion he performed, felt heavy.

he couldn't focus on the choreography, couldn't lose himself in the music. all he could see was her face, her eyes, the curve of her lips when she had whispered his name.

he sat back, breathing slowly, trying to calm himself. the director called for another take. he nodded and stood up, trying to shake off the memories.

back at the photography studio, misun's thoughts drifted again.

she glanced at the photos on her camera, noticing that some of them had the wrong lighting, the wrong focus—little mistakes she wouldn't normally make. she frowned, frustration and longing mixing in her chest.

chaewon leaned closer. "you're not even looking at your work. come on, misun. snap out of it."

misun forced herself to take a deep breath. "i am... i'm just tired."

chaewon studied her for a long moment. "okay... but if you want to talk, i'm here."

misun smiled softly, grateful but too nervous to admit what she was really thinking. "thanks... i know."

she looked down at her camera again, pretending the lens could protect her from the sudden ache in her chest.

jihoon finished another take, wiping sweat from his forehead. the director yelled "cut!" and he slumped against a wall for a moment, staring blankly at the studio floor.

hoshi came over and draped an arm around his shoulders. "hey... talk to us. what's going on?"

he shook his head again, letting out a short laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "nothing. i'm fine. really."

inside, his heart was racing. he wanted to reach for his phone, to see if she had sent him a message, to find out if she was thinking of him too.

but he didn't. not yet.

he let out a long breath, trying to focus on the music, trying to push the thoughts away, but they lingered anyway—soft, persistent, impossible to ignore.

both of them, in their separate worlds, were distracted, lost in the memory of the other.

misun struggled to focus on the photos in front of her. jihoon stumbled through choreography that he had mastered countless times before.

and neither of them knew just how much the other was thinking the same thing.

the night stretched on, heavy and quiet, filled with longing neither could voice, and mistakes that weren't really mistakes—they were the echoes of something neither wanted to let go of.